


Sasha

by jack_hunter



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game), Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Family, Fluff, Force Sensitive Kallus, Hurt/Comfort, I'm so proud, Insecure Kallus, Jedi Kallus, Kallus has no self confidence, Multi, Team as Family, This is the longest thing i have ever written, but we love him anyways, i don't know how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24135823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jack_hunter/pseuds/jack_hunter
Summary: “Let’s take a quick break; perhaps after something to eat, we could convince the troops to play some Padawan Tag,” Sasha nodded enthusiastically at his master’s idea, clipping his lightsaber back onto his belt. He kept looking up at Master Ayman until the doors opened, but when he turned his head he came face to face with the barrel of a blaster. A lightsaber ignited as shots rang out, a flash of light flew just over Sasha’s shoulder close enough to leave a slash of searing pain on his neck as he was thrown backwards by the force of the blast.“Run, Sasha!”Kallus had run from his past, but he couldn't hide from it anymore.
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios, Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Comments: 8
Kudos: 108





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> First off I would like to say thank you so much to the Phoenix Nest Discord for prompting me to keep going with this! I hope you guys love it as much as I do. This had not been beta read and so if it has any mistakes they are entirely mine. I hope you guys all enjoy!

_ “Focus, Sasha!” a woman’s voice called out as a boy no older than thirteen fell to the ground. He jumped to his feet and ran a hand through his blond hair, pushing it from his eyes. A training remote hovered not too far ahead of him and he stared it down, reigniting the lightsaber in his other hand. “Concentrate on the remote. Ignore any distractions you may find and focus on your target,” the woman, who was standing on a platform nearby, instructed as the young boy, Sasha, got into position. He deflected more of the remote’s bolts, keeping most at bay until one slipped past his saber and collided with his shoulder. He fell again, dropping the lightsaber as he did so, and let out a hiss of pain from the sting. The woman sighed and jumped down from the platform with ease, shutting down the remote with a wave of her hand. As Sasha clambered back up again, she approached and knelt down to look him in the eyes.  _

_ “What’s bothering you, my Padawan?” she asked, and Sasha looked down at his feet, fiddling with the bottom hem of his tunic.  _

_ “I’m sorry, Master Ayman,” Sasha muttered, still not looking his master in the eyes, “I’m just… not used to being so far away from the Temple for so long,” Master Ayman gave her padawan a small smile and rested her hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.  _

_ “I understand, little one, I have been feeling a little homesick too,” Sasha looked up and the Master and Padawan shared a smile, one of understanding. Master Ayman got back up from her knees and guided Sasha towards the exit, putting the training room back to normal with a flick of her wrist.  _

_ “Let’s take a quick break; perhaps after something to eat, we could convince the troops to play some Padawan Tag,” Sasha nodded enthusiastically at his master’s idea, clipping his lightsaber back onto his belt. He kept looking up at Master Ayman until the doors opened, but when he turned his head he came face to face with the barrel of a blaster. A lightsaber ignited as shots rang out, a flash of light flew just over Sasha’s shoulder close enough to leave a slash of searing pain on his neck as he was thrown backwards by the force of the blast.  _

_ “Run, Sasha!”  _

Kallus shot upwards in his bunk, breathing heavily as his hand grabbed the scar on his neck. His room aboard the Imperial starship was dark and silent, cold and empty. Kallus drew his knees up to his chest and shuffled as far as he could into the corner of his bunk, one hand trailing up and down the lengths of the scar as he tried to slow his breathing down. Once he was certain he was calm, the Imperial agent reached for his bo-rifle and carefully began to detach a cylindrical section that held no real use to the weapon itself. He had modified the bo-rifle to his liking, but not for combat. Placing the rifle to the side, Kallus held the cylinder in his hands, weighing it as he ran his thumb over the inscription: “ _ Sasha Alexsandr, 99th Battalion _ ”. He fiddled with the switch. Should he turn it on?

No. No, not again. Never again. 

Returning the cylinder to its place attached to the rifle, Kallus let out a sigh and reached out to put his weapon back on the desk. As he pulled back it, the weapon began to topple off of the desk towards the ground. 

“No!” Kallus exclaimed, keeping his voice as quiet as he could whilst reaching back out to catch his rifle before it could clatter to the ground and alert any passing troopers outside. As he moved, hand outstretched, the weapon seemed to stop mid air. It had slowed to an almost impossible speed, allowing Kallus to grab it and set it down properly. A few moments passed. Silence. Kallus collapsed onto his bunk, rubbing his eyes angrily to stop the tears that had welled up and were threatening to fall. 

“... I’m sorry, Master Ayman…” he whispered into the empty room, “I’m so sorry.”


	2. Chapter Two

The rebel base on Yavin IV was much different to the Imperial complexes Kallus was used to. There was a lot less order, but a lot more freedom. Well, there was more freedom for the others on base. People still didn’t trust Kallus all that much, despite Garazeb vouching for him and General Syndulla convincing Command that he was truly one of them. 

In their absence, Kallus had been given Kanan’s room to bunk in until they could get the sleeping arrangements properly sorted out. He was already borrowing Kanan’s clothes so Hera had said it only made sense. Kallus hated it. From the moment he had first stepped foot into the room, it was like he had been smacked in the face. The room whistled, a high-pitched hum in the back of his mind that Kallus did his best to stamp out, forcing his walls up to block it from his head. He knew what it was, and just the thought of it made shame well up in his stomach. 

To think, he had helped inquisitors hunt down Jedi, when he himself was once one. 

Kallus sat in the middle of the room, his legs folded underneath him. He closed his eyes and did his best to clear his mind. Focusing on his breathing -  _ “...in and out, in and out, in and out… you’re doing well, Sasha...” _ \- Kallus began to slowly drop his walls down, tentatively allowing the whistle, the song, back into his thoughts. At first, it just trickled in lightly. It was warm. Inviting. Comforting. A familiar feeling Kallus had all but forgotten, forcing it away out of guilt and fear. The walls fell further, still slowly, but Kallus began to embrace the feeling. He gently reached out into it; he could feel Captain Syndulla in the cockpit recalibrating controls, he could feel Garazeb in the galley rummaging around for something edible. It must be lunchtime, Kallus deduced. A bit more pressing, nothing too much, and Kallus could just about make out the presences of the rebel pilots closest to the  _ Ghost _ . He couldn’t tell exactly who they were, but he felt them as they went about their work. 

Normally, he stopped there. It was always too risky when in his room on the Star Destroyer to go any further, especially when there was an Inquisitor on board. Here, though, on the rebel base in the safety of the Ghost? Kallus felt the risk was worth taking. He allowed his walls to drop completely, nearly falling backwards at the wave that rushed over him. Big mistake. Suddenly, everything became more intense. The slightest movement around him felt as though it was barraging through his body. The light breeze outside felt like hurricane winds howling around the small room. The darkness had been replaced with a blinding white light behind his eyes which burned as his head pounded and -

_ “Commander Alexsandr!” A clone trooper stood to attention as Sasha walked past. He was taller now, his padawan braid nearly twice the length as before. The padawan scoffed.  _

_ “Kickstart, it’s Sasha. Please,” he insisted, stopping next to the trooper until he relaxed and responded with an “alright, Commander Sasha.” Sasha just rolled his eyes. He knew it was deliberate. All of the 99th Attack Battalion did it just to mess with him. They had done so for the past three years.  _

_ “Off to training, sir?” Kickstart asked, and Sasha nodded.  _

_ “Yeah, Master Ayman wants me to work on my duelling skills.”  _

_ “I’m sure General David will go easy on you this time,” Kickstart said, earning a smile from Sasha. The padawan held out a hand for a fist bump, something he did with all his troops, and Kickstart happily obliged before opening the doors to the training room he stood guard of. Sasha walked inside.  _

_ “Hey, Kid!” Kickstart called out, and Sasha turned around. A blaster barrel. A shot ringing out. A flash flying over his shoulder. Searing pain in his neck as he falls backwards and- _

“Kal! Hey, wake up!” Zeb shook Kallus’ shoulders, snapping the former agent awake. He gasped and looked around the room frantically before his eyes fell onto Zeb. He immediately relaxed falling forward into the soft fur. 

“Crikey, Kal, are you alright?” Zeb asked, and Kallus mutely nodded. They stayed like that for a little while, Zeb kneeling down whilst holding Kallus in his arms, gently yet protectively shielding him from whatever invisible force had caused his friend to pass out onto the floor. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not particularly,” Kallus admitted, a bit sterner than he would have liked, not bothering to meet Zeb’s gaze as he knew the Lasat was frowning. 

“If you’re sure,” Zeb relented, “but if you do wanna talk I’m always here. I’ll admit, Kanan’s always been better at this than me, but whilst he’s gone you can always come to me.” Kallus took the words in. Zeb was right; it wasn’t the best idea to hold it all in. Especially as now he looked around the room with a more relaxed mind he noticed that in his distress, he had almost completely overturned what little furniture the room had had inside. Kallus trusted Zeb more than anyone else on Yavin IV, but he was also right about not being the best person to talk to. 

Perhaps it was time Kallus had a talk with the team’s resident Jedi Knight. 

Kanan had been back for a few days before Kallus finally plucked up the courage to speak with him, but each time he tried the words only seemed to get stuck in his throat and he backed out. Each time the shame and guilt rose again until he found himself regretting it more and more. 

An urgent mission arose and the Ghost crew was off once again. This time Kallus was joining them; they were meeting with a fellow Fulcrum agent stationed on Socorro. Socorro was a smuggler’s haven, but they were meeting far away from any settlements so the likelihood that anyone would recognise them was low. It didn’t make things any less worrying and for the entire journey Kallus was anxiously overlooking their plans again and again. 

The more he worked the louder the whistle became. He did his best to shut it out but it was ringing in his ears and drowning out almost every other thought. It begged for him to listen to it, to open his mind again and let it help, but Kallus just forced it out as best as he could until it became so overwhelming that Kallus would have collapsed if he hadn’t already been sitting down. 

A hand landed on his shoulder, and all of a sudden the whistling stopped. Silenced. It threw Kallus off guard and forced him to look up to meet the unseeing eyes of Kanan, who he had forgotten was also in the common area too. 

“Hey,” Kanan said, his voice gentle as he sat next to Kallus, “don’t worry, everything will be alright.” 

“How do you know?” Kallus asked him. 

“We just need to trust in the force,” Kanan replied, squeezing his shoulder. Kallus froze, and he knew that Kanan could tell. Did he know?

_ “We’re coming out of hyperspace!” _ Came Hera over the ship's intercom, and moments later the  _ Ghost  _ shuddered as it departed from lightspeed. Kanan patted Kallus’ shoulder once more before he got up, heading towards the  _ Phantom  _ for departure. For a while Kallus stayed put, before shaking from his stupor and rushing to join the rest of the crew. There was no time to dwell on thoughts; they had a mission to complete.

Socorro was a lot colder than Yavin, and Kallus was happy he had thought to bring his warmer jacket. The blinding sun above them did nothing on the barren deserts, the temperature dropping as far as below freezing on some nights. The  _ Phantom  _ had been left on the outskirts of the small moisture farm they were meeting their contact at; Hera and Chopper were still on the  _ Ghost  _ in orbit, but the rest had come with. Sabine stayed behind to guard their escape should something go wrong, which it normally always did for them. 

There was no sign of anyone around, the farm feeling as though it had been abandoned for a while. They checked inside the farmhouse but nothing, eventually making their way into the nearby barn which seemed to hold equipment. Kallus had one hand on his blaster the entire time, a part of him really missing his bo-rifle. He only prayed that Thrawn hadn’t figured out how to take it apart yet. 

There were some scuff marks on the ground, so Kallus knelt down to examine them. A chunk of metal had broken off of something, and with a gloved hand the rebel picked it up. Almost as instantly as he did so, the whistle came back, screaming at him as flashes past his eyes. Crates. They had been moved. By someone... dressed all in black. She had moved them up high. To a platform. Right above-

Right above Zeb. Kallus spun around on the spot dropping the chunk of metal. 

“Zeb!” He cried out, mere moments before crates began to tumble down from the platform above them. Kallus instinctively reached into his mind allowing the whistle of the song that he had spent so long trying to force out to take over him and suddenly, the floodgates opened and a voice greeted him like an old friend. He forced his hand out and willed the crates to stop. His eyes were closed so he didn’t see that the crates had slowed, giving Zeb the time he needed to duck and roll out of their way before Kallus’ mind gave out and the boxes shattered on impact with the ground. Kallus dropped to his knees, allowing himself a few moments to recover before he got back up and looked at the damage he had caused. Not to the crates, but to the trust he had forged with the  _ Ghost  _ crew. Zeb was still getting up himself, but it was clear that he was confused, whereas Ezra’s eyes had widened as if he had never seen something like that happen before. 

Kanan’s face held no emotion, and Kallus couldn’t decide whether that was worse. He opened his mouth to speak but snapped it shut again. What was there to say?

“Sasha Alexsandr.” A voice echoed around the room, getting the attention of all four rebels. Each drew their weapons as a figure dressed in black appeared above them, right where the crates had fallen from. Their face was hidden by a visored helmet, the Imperial emblem clear as day on their shoulders. “When Thrawn told me you were my next target, I hadn’t believed him. We all assumed you had died during the Purge.” 

Kallus heard two lightsabers ignite at his sides, the familiar blue and green glows visible out of the corner of his eyes. He kept his blaster pointed up at the Inquisitor, but she had other plans. With a flick of her wrist, Kanan, Ezra and Zeb all went flying back against the wall behind them, leaving Kallus alone in the middle of the barn. 

“I guess I should have realised that you of all people would be one of  _ them _ ,” the Inquisitor floated down from the platform with ease, her hand reaching for her lightsaber. The whistle screamed again, telling Kallus to flee and to get his friends out of there, but he couldn’t move. 

“Kallus,” Kanan called from behind him. He allowed himself a brief moment to look over his shoulder to see the Jedi painfully sit up and throw his lightsaber, which Kallus caught and ignited just as a red blade came crashing down. He swung the blue blade up exactly as he had been taught in time to block the blow, pushing the Inquisitor backwards. Kallus got into his ready stance. 

“I recognise that stance,” the Inquisitor said, voice taunting and laced with venom, “you must have been Master Ayman David’s padawan. And look at how you’ve turned out! Such a shame she died protecting you.” Rage boiled in Kallus, the mention of his former Master stirring unpleasant memories as he raced forward to attack. The Inquisitor dodged most of his blows, the years without training making his movements weak and undisciplined. If she didn’t dodge, she blocked with ease, taking every opportunity to push Kallus backwards and make him stumble as if to prove her superiority over him. “Pathetic,” she stated, kicking Kallus in the side and knocking him to the ground. 

A growl that Kallus recognised all too well echoed around them as Zeb fired his bo-rifle at the Inquisitor. She deflected each shot, one hitting Zeb and making the Lasat crumble. 

“No!” Kallus screamed. The next thing he knew, Ezra was helping him to his feet urging him to run. The Inquisitor was almost frozen in place, the final blaster bolt still shooting through the air at an impossibly slow speed. Kallus mutely followed Ezra out of the barn and onto the waiting Phantom, where Kanan was already tending to Zeb’s shoulder and Sabine was ready to pilot them away. Kallus risked a glance back out of the ship; the Inquisitor had broken free of whatever had slowed her down and was watching them fly away. In one final act she threw her lightsaber and it slashed across the back of the  _ Phantom  _ just as the door closed, leaving a glowing red mark visible from the inside where Kallus collapsed into a seat. His vision was getting spotty and dark, and he had one last thought before he passed out.

What had he done? 


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of characters from Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order. No major spoilers, though.

_ The friendly eyes of Master Ayman smiled down at Sasha as she led him through the halls of the Temple. She had her dark hair down still, instead of tied up in its usual braids, and it revealed the clasp of the simple gold circlet she wore across her forehead underneath the fringe of her hair. It was early, the sun was barely in the sky yet, but Master Ayman had woken Sasha up for an important lesson.  _

_ “The Force is what gives a Jedi their power,” Master Ayman explained as the two walked side by side, Sasha having to almost skip to keep up with his Master’s strong strides, “it surrounds us, penetrates us and binds the Galaxy together. But it takes more than a light sword and a bit of magic to be a Jedi. Do you understand, Padawan?” _

_ “I think so, Master Ayman,” Sasha replied, reaching to grasp at his master’s sleeve when they approached a corner of the temple he had never been to before. Master Ayman sensed his fear and placed her hands on his shoulders, guiding him through the unlit passage.  _

_ “Come now,” she said, “there is nothing to fear,” Sasha glanced up, seeing his master smiling, and he smiled himself before turning back. A blaster barrel. A shot ringing out. A flash flying over his shoulder. Searing pain in his neck as he falls backwards and- _

Kallus shot up, smacking his head on the bunk above him. He shot one hand up to his forehead and the other went straight to the scar on his neck. His entire body ached, as if he had run a marathon or six. His side was sore and his head was spinning, not just from where he hit it against the bunk. He opened his eyes to find the  _ Ghost  _ crew stood around him and Zeb on the end of the bunk, watching him worriedly. 

“Careful,” Hera cooed as she helped him to lay propped up against a pillow, bringing a bacta-dipped cloth to his forehead for the cut that had begun to slowly bleed. Her touch was so warm that Kallus couldn’t help but relax into it as her free hand brushed his hair out of his eyes. Her hands were just so warm. Gentle. Almost… familiar. 

“Is he gonna be ok?” Kallus heard Ezra ask, but he couldn’t see the young Jedi as Hera was in the way. 

“He’ll be fine,” Kanan assured, before asking Sabine to take Ezra and Chopper into the common area. Ezra put up a bit of a fight but seemed to ultimately agree to go, the doors whooshing open and closed. Hera moved from his view, letting Kanan approach instead. Kallus looked away. He could feel the Jedi’s unseeing eyes baring through him like he could read his mind, which he probably could. The room stayed quiet, save for the sounds of Hera putting away the medical supplies. 

“I’m sorry,” Kallus said, his voice a bit hoarse. He lowered his hands to his lap, fiddling with the hem of the blanket he had been draped in, “...I should have told you.”

“No,” Kanan responded, which made Kallus look up at him. He had pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, “you were right to hide your abilities. If the Empire had found out, they would have killed you.” Kallus didn’t respond. He expected anger, frustration, blame. Not understanding. Not kindness. He expected Kanan to be shouting at him, to be calling him a traitor to his people. He expected harshness and punishment, but instead was receiving care. 

“Master Ayman, huh?” Kanan was smiling, one of those gentle ones Kallus had only ever seen him give to Ezra or sometimes Sabine when training.

“Yeah, she-” Words failed him. What could he say? “S-she was the best.” He hadn’t noticed the tears welling up until Zeb reached to wipe them away, drawing the ex-Imperial in for a hug. 

Kallus broke. 

In the aftermath of the failed mission to Socorro, High Command had given Kallus some time off. They knew little about what truly happened, other than it was a trap and there was an Inquisitor who attacked them, but they saw how shaken it had made Kallus and given him a week of leave. In that week Kallus had done all he could to keep to himself, to keep out of the way. They were right, he was shaken. Afraid. He hadn’t felt that scared since he was a teenager running through the underworld of Coruscant, trying his best to hide from the Stormtroopers. He felt broken. 

_ “My connection with the force was… shattered… after the Purge…” Kallus admitted when it was just him and Kanan left in the room, “I… I can’t do much anymore.”  _

_ “Trauma. It can do that,” Kanan hummed, “I was the same for a while, until I met Hera. She helped to get me back on my feet, to rekindle. I can help you, if you’d like?”  _

If Kallus wasn’t found with Zeb, who was still recovering from the blaster bolt to his shoulder, then Kallus would be hiding out in the store room counting and recounting. The more rational part of his mind kept screaming the obvious: he was safe and the Ghost crew were not going to hate him for keeping his past a secret from him. The other half of his mind? That was whispering. Telling him that they were only putting up with him because they pitied him. Kallus couldn’t stop himself from listening to the whispers. 

After the Purge, Kallus had promised himself - promised his Master - that he would never be so careless again. With his connection shattered it was easy to simply cut himself off from the force and shove all thoughts away as he clambered through each day under an Empire that would kill him on sight. He had made a mistake allowing himself to reconnect; he knew how unstable he was, remembering the few times he had tried in the past and nearly destroyed his surroundings in the process. 

Kanan asked Kallus to go on a walk with him during that week off. It felt odd at first; the two had never been close since Kallus’ defection and the former Imperial knew that there was some resentment still hidden there for the time Kallus had tortured him, but the walk was nice. The forests of Yavin were calm and the nature was beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the Temple gardens had been. The hours he would spend outside meditating under the Force Tree were some of the few good memories Kallus still had. 

Kanan stopped by a small creek up in the hills they had walked up. He knelt down by the water. The Jedi seemed at peace, and not wanting to disturb that, Kallus decided to look at the world around them instead. He used to love hearing the plants and flowers as they danced in the breeze, the echoes of the younglings as they ran around playing and learning. 

As he explored, Kallus found a helmet lying in the grass. The blast shield was down; if you wore it, you wouldn’t be able to see a thing. Kallus bent down and picked it up. The whistle came back, this time encouraging Kallus to turn around as two figures fought each other with their respective lightsabers, the pair of them wearing the same type of helmet Kallus was holding. Their ghostly figures danced around the creek and passed through Kanan as if he wasn’t even there. Kallus couldn’t see their faces, not until the smaller figure knocked the taller one down. The figure on the grass flipped the blast shield up. It was Kanan. The other figure took his helmet off and dropped it to the grass, with it rolling to the exact spot Kallus had lifted it from. Ezra. 

“You’re a psychometric?” Kallus dropped the helmet and the ghostly figures disappeared. He hadn’t seen Kanan approach him, too enthralled in the vision he had seen. He nodded. “Not many have that ability. I only knew of one other.”

“Cal Kestis,” Kallus said, and this time Kanan nodded, “we… we were friends. At the temple.” Kallus bowed his head. Cal had only been thirteen when the Purge happened. Kallus didn’t even know if he was still alive. They had bonded over their unique gift, being the only two in the Order who could use it. Something panged in Kallus’ chest. 

“I knew him too. We were in the same clan as kids.” Kanan admitted. A silence enveloped them both. “Meditate with me?” Kanan asked, though it wasn’t much of a request. Kallus was hesitant, his past experiences not making him all that willing to face his trauma again. He did, though, sitting opposite Kanan next to the water. The Jedi’s presence was comforting; it made it easier to relax. 

“Don’t be afraid to let go. I’m here to help this time,” Kanan said, and it was this reassurance that allowed Kallus to drop his walls. Everything was still overwhelming, like it was every time he had tried to reconnect, but something seemed to be muting it. Making it all just a bit more manageable. The wind wasn’t howling as loud. The sun wasn’t too bright but it felt warmer. Each blade of grass that brushed against his hands didn’t feel like knives, but instead like feathers. 

It felt like he was back at the Temple. 

It felt like he was safe again. 


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's official: BD Units are the puppy dogs of the Star Wars universe and no one can convince me otherwise.

Kallus ran through the forest along the path of the training course Kanan and Ezra had set up. Since he had allowed himself to open up again, he found that there was a lot which came naturally to him. With the blast shield down on the helmet he wore, Kallus relied on his senses to get him through without falling, carefully dodging each tree root, boulder, and fallen log. Kallus could only do the first third of the course, the rest of it requiring abilities he no longer had, even the simplest ones. That didn’t stop him. It didn’t stop him from mastering that first third of the course. 

Each step could be recounted from memory. Right turn, jump over the root, head straight then slide down. Vault over the fallen log, left turn, jump up to the ledge. Avoid hitting your head on the low branches, then jump up another ledge. It felt freeing, to be able to run again. Another right turn, slide down the muddy hill and keep running ahead. He normally stopped at the gap in the cliff where the waterfall had once been, not able to jump across the small gorge left there, but today something felt different. Something called to him on the other side. He took off the helmet and let it fall to the ground, not slowing down as he reached the edge and-

_ Sasha tumbled to the ground. “Try again, Padawan,” Master Ayman, who was standing on the small platform ahead, instructed. Sasha stumbled back onto his feet.  _

_ “I’m trying, Master, but it’s really difficult.” _

_ “The right path will never be easy,” Master Ayman explained, “sometimes it may even seem impossible, but as my master once said to me, “with persistence and the Force as your ally, you will overcome any obstacle”. Try again.” Taking a deep breath, Sasha got into a ready stance before he took off running, jumping from the platform he stood on. He used the wall nearby to run along, propelling himself forward, before jumping and grabbing the dangling rope. Swinging forward, Sasha jumped one last time and- _

Kallus landed on the other side of the cliff, tumbling over as soon as his feet hit the ground. He rolled down the small incline and came to a stop when his back hit the bottom of a tree. He’d done it. From where he lay he turned his head to his right, staring at the small gorge and the dangling rope. He had actually done it. 

A beep came from his left, and when Kallus turned his head, a strange looking droid was staring at him. It had a head that closely resembled a pair of electrobinoculars, with two antennas sticking up out the back. The droid’s body was small and it had two robotic legs that bent backwards before pointing forwards, much like some of the bi-peded creatures Kallus had read about over the years. It blinked - well, as best as a droid could - and then beeped at him again. 

“Um, hi, uh… BD-4?” Kallus read the printed designation off of the side of the little droid’s head. “A BD unit, huh? Don’t see many of you around anymore.” If memory served him correctly, the company that manufactured the BD units went under when the Empire took over. The droid itself looked quite old, with some of its plating faded and rusty from the humidity. Kallus sat up and turned, sitting just before the droid. What was it doing all the way out there in the forest? The droid tilted its head and took a step forward, favouring its left leg. The right one was sparking, wires shorting out. 

“How long has that been broken?” Kallus asked, and the droid beeped at him, “over ten years? Have you been alone all that time?” BD-4 gave a sad whir, one that made Kallus frown, “yeah. Yeah, me too.” Kallus jumped to his feet, looking back at the way he had come. 

“Come on,” Kallus leant down and held out a hand, which BD-4 stared at quizzically, “I can fix your leg back at my base, if you want that is?” BD-4 jumped up, settling himself on the clasp on the back of Kallus’ jacket. 

Kallus walked onto the Ghost ship with BD-4 sitting in his arms, broken leg dangling as they headed through the storage bay and up the ladder towards the galley. Everyone was sitting around the table as Hera started to dish up dinner, a plate put to the side in the microheater like she always did for Kallus. He rarely made it to dinner on time, normally working through it until Zeb came to drag him away. 

“Just in time, Kal,” Hera said as she brought three plates of food over to the table with expert balance, returning to grab a jug of juice as Chopper wheeled over with cups. Kallus grabbed his own plate with a free arm, letting BD-4 stay where she was, and took a seat next to Zeb on the extended part of the table; they normally folded that part away when they weren’t all together to make more room in the small kitchen. He had claimed the seat closest to the door as his own when he first joined them, having been shocked that they would even consider him a good enough friend to invite for a family dinner. The Crew each greeted him when they saw him take a seat.

“Wotcha got there?” Zeb asked through a mouthful of food. Kallus glanced down at his new friend, who was peering over his arms with a strange shyness that Kallus didn’t think was possible for a droid. 

“This is BD-4. I found her out in the forest,” Kallus explained, the droid perking up at the mention of her name. Chopper whirred and immediately came to say hello, the two robots chatting away to one another. “She has a damaged leg so I’m going to fix it for her.” Kallus began to tuck into his meal. 

“I’ve got some spare parts if you need them,” Sabine piped up, and BD-4 whistled happily. Jumping up onto Kallus’ shoulder, BD-4 chirped and hopped onto the table, limping between each member of the team with an expression that reminded Kallus of a domesticated canine. 

“How did the training course go?” asked Ezra, who was happily chowing down on a piece of what looked like a piece of meiloorun. 

“It was fine. I… I crossed the cliff,” Kallus admitted, shrugging lightly as he tried to play it off as nothing. To him, it was everything, and Kanan seemed to agree. 

“That’s great, Kal,” he said, “you’re getting better.”

And he was. He really was. 


	5. Chapter Five

Getting trapped inside a turbolift on an Imperial Star Destroyer was not Kallus’ plan, but there he was. BD-4, who had quickly claimed herself as Kallus’ new best friend, was using her scomp link to tap away at the control panel, but nothing seemed to work. A simple rescue mission had gone wrong very quickly, and now Kallus had a feeling that he was the one who would need rescuing.

_ “Fulcrum, what’s your status?” _ came Hera’s voice through his comlink. Kallus grabbed the device off of his belt. 

“I’m stuck in a turbolift on the fifth floor. The control panel’s busted; BeeDee can’t get it to work,” he explained, trying to find a crack to wedge something into, hoping to pry the doors open. 

_ “Copy that, I’m sending help,” _ Hera responded and the com line went off. BeeDee was chirping away, but when she plugged back into the panel a shock of electricity spiked through to her systems and made her fall to the floor with a trill of surprise. Kallus gave a frustrated sigh as he gave up with trying to pry the doors apart, bending down to scoop up his droid and held her close. He would be lying if he said that he hadn’t bonded with the little droid over the past month. 

“Come on, BeeDee,” Kallus said to his friend, looking around the small entrapment for any other form of escape. There was none. The emergency hatch above was too high for Kallus to jump to and the doors weren’t budging. There was nothing. They were trapped. The sounds of the battle raged on outside, getting louder as troopers got closer. They would be found soon. Captured. What would happen to them? 

Kallus shook his head. He couldn’t let that happen. 

He placed a hand flat against the door. It was cracked from the pressure of being stuck, but not enough for him to push through. But maybe…

Kallus took a deep breath and closed his eyes. There was no time for fear. No time to hesitate. Not this time. He let his walls fall, opening his mind. The shots outside got louder, echoing painfully around in his head but he focused and-

_ A pebble hit Sasha right in the forehead. He stumbled and the clone troopers laughed, a couple tossing more pebbles in the air and catching them.  _

_ “Behave, boys,” Master Ayman told the troopers sternly, who all grumbled a “yes, General David”. Master Ayman turned back to her padawan, “you must focus, Sasha.” Sasha grumbled as well, making Master Ayman cross her arms over her chest, “a Jedi does not seek aggression but we stand against it. The Force is there to shield us,” she knelt down and picked a pebble up off of the training room floor, “any obstacles in your path define the path you take. What stands in the way becomes the way. Ready position.”  _

_ Sasha ignited his saber and stood ready. Master Ayman threw the first pebble, which he deflected with ease. A few more all bounced off of his saber perfectly. Until the Clones were told to open fire. Sasha kept his game up, deflecting whatever came his way with skill, but the troopers were ganging up on him and soon the pebbles were overpowering. More and more flew his way, and the padawan began to falter but he didn’t relent, still deflecting them as he reached a hand out and suddenly, every pebble flew backwards, scattering to the floor at the trooper’s feet and- _

The door shattered into pieces as it flew backwards, forced back by Kallus’ hand. He stayed there for just a moment until Kanan and Ezra poked their heads around the sides of the doorframe. 

“Ok, I’m really happy we hadn’t started cutting into that yet!” Ezra stated, turning just in time to deflect blaster bolts from the troopers who turned the corner of the hall. Kallus snapped out of his stupor and went running with the two Jedi, shooting at the troopers as they ran. It didn’t take too long for them to get back to the waiting  _ Ghost _ . They jumped on board as the ramp closed, Hera sending the ship into hyperspace less than a minute later. 

Kallus collapsed onto a supply crate, exhausted beyond belief, but he couldn’t stop staring at his hand. BD-4 chirped and nuzzled her head against the hand he was staring at, making Kallus chuckle. 

“Good job,” Kanan said, clapping Kallus' shoulder before heading up the ladder to the cockpit. Kallus followed shortly after, still holding BD-4 close. She chirped again, her sensor sparking. 

“I’ll get that fixed up for you when we get back to base, ok BeeDee?” Kallus told his friend, who gave a happy trill and folded up in his arm like a loth-cat. Kallus couldn’t help himself, he started to pet her. For a droid, BD-4 was somehow adorable. He gently petted her new Starbird orange paint job.

The team had all assembled in the common area so Kallus joined them. They all stood around the dejarik table, mumbling incoherently. “Everything alright?” Kallus asked them. 

“Kal, hey, guess what we got!” Zeb waved him over. The others sat down as Zeb picked an item up off of the table, turning and holding it out to Kallus. He froze. It couldn’t be. Sabine took BD-4 from Kallus’ arm so he could take the bo-rifle from Zeb, holding it gently as if it would disappear at any moment.

“How…?” 

“It was just lying there on a table in a room we hid in,” Zeb explained, “don’t worry, we’ve checked it for bugs and trackers.” 

Kallus looked his weapon over. He’d never expected to see it again, thinking it lost to Thrawn for good. His thumb traced the inscription. “ _ Sasha Alexsandr, 99th Battalion _ ”. The whistle returned, encouraging him to look up just beyond his rifle as the shadow of a Clone trooper handed a young padawan the lightsaber sleeve, saluting his young commander. 

When he realised the others were staring, Kallus snapped back to the present. He laid the weapon down on the dejarik table and detached the familiar cylindrical section from the main rifle. Taking three steps back, making sure he was clear of all the others and of the walls, the ex-Imperial counted to three and flipped the switch. Two green blades shot out from either end of the hilt. 

“Awesome,” breathed out Ezra and Sabine, the pair perched forwards in their seats. Admiring the green glow, Kallus gave the saber a few spins, the movements coming naturally to him. He switched the blades off, holding it tightly in his hands. 

“Thank you,” he said, still staring at the saber he held. 


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have some overprotective dad!Kanan in this!

_ Sasha re-tied his braid, sliding the bands back into their places. A yellow band for his lightsaber training, and a brown one for his scholarship. It was easy now he had been doing it for a year. On the Venator-class Star Destroyer, the Dovekeeper, Sasha sat up at the small table in his and Master Ayman’s shared quarters, shovelling oats into his mouth for his breakfast. It was bland, but better than any ration bars. _

_ Master Ayman entered the living quarters from her own room, one arm in a sling from the battle a few days earlier. She had only just been released from the medical bay and was supposed to be resting, but Sasha knew his master and he knew that she was never one to listen to doctor’s orders. Her hair was down and in her free hand she held a brush, one of those soft bristled ones that Sasha hated the feeling of. Apparently it was the best for long hair like his master’s.  _

_ “Sasha, would you mind assisting me?” Master Ayman asked, sitting next to her Padawan at the table. Sasha nodded and took the spoon out of his mouth. His master handed him the hair brush and spun around, pushing her hair off of her shoulders. She set some bands down on the table, along with two jewelled hair clips. One red and blue, one red and gold. The colours of her family names: Kallus-David. Normally the Jedi Order would frown upon such personal items, but as they held a great deal to her heritage and culture they allowed Master Ayman to wear them.  _

_ Sasha was a little surprised at first, but he pushed his bowl away and picked up one of the bands before beginning to brush through his master’s hair. A Masadan’s hair was not to be touched by just anyone, another part of their culture, but only by those loved enough to be considered family. In the past, Master Ayman had simply left her hair down when she was unable to braid it herself, and it made Sasha feel honoured.  _

_ He tied the hair up in its usual two braids which he then joined together to make one as it reached its ends. One clip went on the left side and the other on the right. Sasha sat back to admire his work, grinning when he saw the pride in his master’s eyes when she too admired her hair.  _

_ “Thank you, my Padawan,” she said, bowing her head. Sasha did the same, before turning around in his chair to go back to his breakfast. A blaster barrel. A shot ringing out. A flash flying over his shoulder. Searing pain in his neck as he falls backwards and- _

Kallus shot upwards, his hand flying to his neck. “ _ Ima _ ...” he breathed out, panting as he took a look at his surroundings. He was on the  _ Ghost _ . He was safe. No one was firing at him. No one was dying in his arms. Slowing his breathing down, Kallus began to relax and let his hand drop, sniffling and rubbing at his eyes. From the table, BD-4 whirred to life and gave a quiet beep, jumping from his charging port to his friend’s side. 

“I’m fine, BeeDee,” Kallus whispered, waving the droid off. She just perched next to the bed, returning to low power mode. 

“Kal?” came Zeb’s murmured voice. A strong arm wrapped around his waist and pulled the Coruscanti back down onto the bed, holding him close. Kallus curled up, burying his face into the soft fur. “It’s alright, you’re safe,” Zeb mumbled, a hand reaching up to stroke Kallus’ hair. It was soothing and soon, Kallus found himself drifting. He was safe. Safe with Zeb. Safe with BD-4. Safe with the  _ Ghost  _ crew. 

Safety didn’t last long. An ambush on a supply mission led the  _ Ghost  _ and her team straight into danger as wave after wave of troopers attacked. The rebels put up their best fight, protecting their cargo as they took out the stormtroopers that came their way. Sabine was working her magic with her paint bombs, something Kallus had found he had begun to admire, whereas Ezra and Kanan deflected shots from where they stood on the ramp of the Ghost. Kallus and Zeb were a little further forward, crouching behind old machinery as they shot back. 

A blast door at the opposite end of the landing platform opened, and when Kallus looked up he saw the same Inquisitor from Socorro strutting ever closer. His moment of distraction was all that one stormtrooper needed to get in a lucky shot, right at Kallus’ hand. It hit just above his fingers, knocking his bo-rifle out of his hand. The weapon went sliding, landing in a corner near the  _ Ghost’s  _ landing gear. Out of reach. 

“Ezra, the Inquisitor!” Kanan ordered, and soon the two Jedi were running forward. The troopers ignored the Jedi, focusing on retrieving the stolen cargo, but the Inquisitor drew her saber just in time to block the attacks. With no way to get to his rifle, Kallus drew his back up pistol and kept firing, and soon nearly all of the stormtroopers were down. Had they all been that lousy a shot when Kallus still worked for the Empire? 

The Inquisitor was ruthless, and more powerful than Kallus could have imagined. Kanan fared well, but Ezra less so even though the padawan had grown a lot more skilled in the time since Kallus had known him. The Inquisitor knocked Ezra back with ease, using the Force to slam him against a nearby wall. The teenager fell to the ground, the lightsaber falling from his grip. He wasn’t moving. 

“No!” Kanan cried out, and that was all the Inquisitor needed to kick him down, forcing him backwards onto the ramp of the ship, splitting Master and Padawan up. She was heading towards Ezra. Steps slow. Overconfident. The padawan still wasn’t moving. 

Kanan was still struggling to get up. The last of the stormtroopers were falling one by one as the rebels kept firing, but every shot directed at the Inquisitor just bounced from her saber without her even looking. Ezra was in danger but no one could help. Kallus needed his bo-rifle, but there was no time. It was out of reach; he couldn’t grab it, he-

_ “Sasha, where is the Force?” Master Ayman asked, looking up at where her padawan was hanging from a rope by his foot. Sasha, who had no idea how to stop himself from spinning in mid air, twisted his body so he could turn to look at his master.  _

_ “It’s everywhere,” he answered, “it’s within me and it surrounds me.”  _

_ “It connects you,” Master Ayman added, stepping forward to the small table that had been set up below Sasha. “There will be many times in this war when you may feel cut off from the Force, isolated. Because emotion, pain, or exhaustion, this will trick you into feeling alone. Into giving up hope. This is an illusion,” Master Ayman unclipped Sasha’s lightsaber from her own belt, placing it on the table. Sasha spun himself around again, trying to counteract the constant turning of the twisted rope.  _

_ “Your lightsaber may lie there, out of reach, but you are still connected to it through the force, just like you are with me,” Master Ayman held out her hand, blindly calling her own saber to her from the back of the room where she had left it. “Summon your weapon.”  _

_ Sasha, who had finally figured out how to stop the damned spinning, reached his own hand out towards his lightsaber. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the connection he felt until he could feel a pull. He tugged on it. Nothing. He tugged again, and this time it shifted. Reaching out further he yanked on the pull and- _

Kallus was on his feet, red and green clashing inches before his eyes as he stood protectively over Ezra. He shoved the Inquisitor backwards and ignited his second blade, running after her as he tried to put as much distance between her and the padawan as possible. Their blades smashed together, Kallus’ actions clumsy but he held his own. 

“Your own lightsaber, I see?” The inquisitor taunted, slashing back at him and dodging with ease, “I should have expected nothing less.” Kallus kept going, the familiar forms coming back to him the more he fought. As he dodged and danced, he could see Zeb hurrying to grab Ezra and carry him back to the ship. Only once he knew everyone was safe on board did he break form, rolling on the ground under the Inquisitor’s blade and jumping onto the ramp of the  _ Ghost  _ as Hera flew backwards to scoop him up. The Inquisitor just stared as the  _ Ghost  _ flew away. 

Kallus switched off his lightsaber and clipped it to his belt. Sabine was waiting for him in the cargo hold, Kallus’ bo-rifle in her hands. She looked… impressed. 

“You pulled this thing to you without even looking,” she told the ex-Imperial, tossing the rifle towards him. Kallus caught it, looking it over before strapping it to his back. 

“... I guess I did,” he replied. Hera slid down from the cockpit, her brow furrowed in worry. Ezra. The three rushed towards the  _ Ghost’s  _ small medical bay. Kanan was fussing over Ezra, who lay limp on the table. The vitals monitor beeped steadily, which was a good sign, but he didn’t look any closer to waking up. 

“How is he?” Zeb asked. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, foot tapping agitatedly, clearly worried. 

“Stable, but I’m not sure why he won’t wake up,” Kanan said. 

Kallus felt something brush past his leg, and when he looked down BD-4 scuttled into the room and jumped up onto the table next to Ezra. Her scanner flashed on, swiping up and down the padawan’s prone form before flicking off. She beeped once before opening a small compartment on the top of her head. A small green canister popped out, and Kallus caught it. 

“A healing stim!” Kallus stated with surprise. The  _ Ghost  _ never had these; the Rebellion never had these! Without a second thought Kallus placed the small canister against Ezra’s chest and, through his clothing, activated it. Ezra gasped awake. Kanan was sat by his padawan’s side in an instant, pulling the boy into a hug which Ezra reciprocated without hesitation. Hera joined in and Zeb and Sabine crowded around, even Chopper rushed close. 

Kallus took a small step back, letting the family have their moment. BD-4, who had jumped off of the table, hopped up onto Kallus’ shoulder and perched there, trilling. “You did good, Little Missy,” Kallus scratched under BD-4’s “chin”, making her make some sort of purring sound. Kallus looked back to the group, not expecting Zeb to grab his hand and pull him in close to the huddle. Ezra was sandwiched between  ~~ his parents ~~ Kanan and Hera, looking a little tired but otherwise perfectly healthy. 

“Thanks for the save,” the padawan said. Kallus just shrugged, but he was smiling a little. 

“It was nothing,” he brushed the thanks off, a light blush lighting his cheeks at all the attention everyone was giving him. Zeb didn’t let go of his hand. 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter the romance! I suck at romance so I'm sorry.  
> Also, BD-4 being cute!

Training with Zeb had become a lot more fun ever since Kallus had allowed himself to open up again. Before he and Zeb had been equals in a fight, but now, Kallus was inclined to say he had the upper hand. His instincts had grown stronger, alerting him to attacks before they came. Their bo-rifles clashed as they sparred, a familiar fight they took part in daily. Kallus’ attacks were stronger, more daring yet at the same time calculated. 

Zeb still won, knocking Kallus flat onto his back with his bo-rifle sliding out of his grip. “Do you yield?” The Lasat smirked, pointing his weapon right at Kallus’ face. Kallus returned the smirk, hand reaching out to call his weapon to him. As it flew to him, Kallus swept his leg to kick Zeb down, catching his own rifle as he jumped up. He reached out for Zeb’s own weapon, the staff flying through the air into his hands, but the second Kallus touched it a shock went through him, making him stagger to his knees. 

The raw emotion that came from the rifle was overwhelming. Grief and agony screamed, as did the cries of slain innocents from Lasan. Shots echoed and around him, ghostly figures fell as stormtroopers slaughtered men, women and children without mercy. The pain was paralyzing, but weaving throughout it was happiness. The stormtroopers faded, replaced with flittering forms of Hera and Sabine and Kanan and Ezra and even Chopper. It was pure, piercing, but it slowly ebbed away. 

A hand wrapped around Kallus’ on the rifle, and a warmth enveloped him. A softness, unadulterated and strong, relaxed him enough to let go of his crushing grip on the weapon. As he let go, one last emotion shot right through him. Love.

_ “Master Ayman?” Sasha hesitantly stood at the door of his Master’s room, staring at his feet. The Jedi Master looked up from her data pads, taking in her padawan’s demeanour.  _

_ “Is everything alright?” she asked, putting the datapad down. Sasha glanced up, one hand rubbing his upper arm.  _

_ “Um… I-I was just wondering… Is… is it ok for a Jedi to love?” the last part was rushed out in a single breath, the young padawan seemingly curling in on himself as he asked. Master Ayman gave him a kind smile, motioning for the young boy to take a seat on her lap. Sasha was thirteen but was far too small for his age, a consequence of his brief life before the jedi temple. She pondered about how best to explain, reaching to run a hand through her padawan’s short hair.  _

_ “As a Jedi,” she began,” we are meant to refrain from attachment. It can lead to the fear of losing those close to you, which can lead down a path to the dark side,” in her arms, Sasha huddled close to Master Ayman. She held him a little tighter, “but as people, it is natural to love. We cannot stop it.” _

_ “Do you love anyone?” Sasha asked her. She paused for a moment.  _

_ “Yes,” Master Ayman admitted, a bit hesitant to say more. Her padawan’s bright eyes, innocent and naive, stared up at her. “Do you remember Senator Castillo?” Sasha nodded, “I have loved her for a very long time, but as a Jedi, as a member of the Order, I cannot be with her.” Sasha fell quiet, one of his hands fiddling with his master’s long braid. He was staring at her clips, the family heirlooms she wore.  _

_ Master Ayman reached up and unclipped her red and blue clip, her ‘Kallus’ clip, gently removing it from her hair. “I also love my intelligent, kind and compassionate padawan,” she brushed Sasha’s padawan braid behind his ear, sliding the clip into his short blond locks to keep the braid back. Sasha, though surprised at first, jumped up to wrap his arms around his master’s neck, hugging her tightly.  _

_ “I love you too, Master,” Sasha mumbled into the crook of his master’s neck. Master Ayman hugged him back.  _

It took a little while for Kallus to properly come back to himself. Zeb was kneeling before him, concern written in his eyes. 

“I’m guessing that was one of those Jedi things?” he asked. They were still holding hands, their weapons laid forgotten at their feet. Kallus stared up at him. 

The two had shared a bed for a while, ever since Kallus first truly joined their team. They spent their free time together, trained together, ate together, and shared their stories with one another. They would comfort one another after nightmares jolted them awake at night, bandage each other up after a fight gone wrong. But they never spoke about it. Never addressed the obvious. It left room for doubt in Kallus’ mind, ever-present anxiety gripping at the tendrils of hope that dangled there. 

Kallus took the risk. 

He kissed Zeb. 

BD-4 scuttled through the Rebel base on Yavin IV, a place which had become her new home after  _ Designation - Father  _ had rescued her from the forest and fixed her broken leg. She had made friends with the fellow droids, organics petted her when she approached, and she was loving her cozy perch that had been made for her above the dejarik table in  _ Location - Home _ . BD-4 continued through the base, avoiding the organics he passed with a mission in mind. She hurried under the many X-Wing ships and hopped up the ramp onto  _ Location - Home _ , rushing up inside of the ship and hopping up the ladder. 

Inside the galley of  _ Location - Home _ , BD-4 found  _ Designation - Auntie Artist _ and  _ Designation - Uncle Jedi _ talking as they ate human sustenance. It was one of the many things BD-4 found strange about organics. They didn’t just need to recharge each day, they had to continuously feed on strange plants and animals to retain their energy. 

BD-4 trilled when he entered the galley getting the two organics’ attention. 

“What’s the matter, BeeDee?”  _ Designation - Auntie Artist _ asked her. BD-4’s holoprojected whirred online, pointing up at the two organics as she displayed the image she had previously carried halfway across the base. In the image,  _ Designation - Father _ and  _ Designation - Uncle Lasat _ were… what did the organics call it? Kissing?

The two organics in front of BD-4 started laughing and slapped their hands together. A ‘Hi-five’, BD-4’s processor supplied. The organics were happy. BD-4 saved the image to her data banks and encrypted it. She liked it, but she was going to have to give  _ Designation - Uncle Lasat _ a new name.


	8. Chapter Eight

Kallus didn’t leave Yavin very often, instead working from Alliance Intelligence within the Massassi temple, but when High Command called the Ghost crew to the Command centre for briefing, Kallus was happy he was there. 

“We have received reports of increased Imperial activity on the planet of Masada,” Mon Mothma explained, activating the map on the holotable in the centre of the room. Kallus perked up at the mention of the world. Masada was a far off planet at the very end of the Corellian run, on the outskirts of the Outer Rim in Wild Space. It’s closest colonised planet was Ryloth, if memory served him correctly. 

“That planet’s really far out for the Empire, what do they want there?” Sabine asked. 

“Our reports have shown that they’re searching an old Venator-class Star Destroyer from during the Clone Wars,” Rex, who was taking the main lead on the briefing, explained. A yellow locator appeared on the northern hemisphere of the planet, far from any of the blue settlement markers, “we can’t figure out what they’re looking for, but whatever it is, it can’t be good.” 

Kallus didn’t focus on everything they said. He wasn’t going on the mission so he didn’t need to know the ins and outs of it all, but something about the wreckage seemed… familiar. His datapad stated it crashed at the end of the Clone Wars; it wasn’t a flagship but instead a part of the Open Circle Armada. Under the command of Admiral Rigger and Jedi General-

Ayman Kallus-David. 

“The ship was carrying an ancient Masadan artefact that had been gifted to the Jedi Order,” Kallus announced. All eyes turned to him, “it was a compass of the Galaxy detailing Wild Space and the Unknown Regions in a greater depth than anyone else had. After the Republic freed the planet from the Separatist take over, some ships remained. The last one in orbit was carrying the gift.”

“And then when the Clone Wars ended. The ship crashed and the compass was lost,” Kanan finished. Kallus nodded. 

“The ship had first been under General David’s command. She was from Masada and the people trusted her most,” Kallus explained, falling quiet. He could feel Kanan’s unseeing eyes staring him down. How did he do that?

“That compass could be used to help the Empire expand into Wild Space,” Hera commented, and she was right. If the Empire expanded past the Outer Rim, more worlds would fall under their control. It wasn’t something they could risk. The mission had just become critical. 

“We cannot risk sending more than one ground crew for this mission,” Mon Mothma said, a small frown on her lips, “Masada is under Imperial control and they have not shown any signs of resistance.” She looked at Kallus. “Captain, as you know the most about this planet I’m placing you in charge of the ground crew.” 

Kallus shook his head. “With all due respect, Ma’am,” he argued politely, “the Masadans are a very matriarchal society. They haven’t had a king in nearly a thousand generations. General Syndulla should take the lead as they will respect her command most.” 

“Very well,” Mon Mothma replied, “but I would still like you on this mission.” Kallus nodded, but he bit his lip. 

  
  


The Ghost flew through hyperspace, making good time on Masada. When they had reached the end of the Corellian Run, the Ghost slowed. Not many people had travelled this far, not since the Clone Wars. Kallus sat in the nose gun, staring out at the streaking stars. BD-4 sat on his lap chirping away telling a story that he was only half listening to. When his droid realised he wasn’t paying attention, she pulled out her scomp link and jabbed him in the stomach. Kallus flinched and flicked the appendage away. 

“I’m sorry, Little Missy, was I not paying enough attention to you?” he said sarcastically, but he did stroke the top of BD-4’s head. She settled back down, trilling happily now that she had her human’s attention. Kallus turned back to the viewport and sighed. He reached into the breast pocket of his shirt, fumbling around until he clasped a hold of two sleek items. He held them flat in his hands. Hair clips. One red and blue, the other red and gold. The colours of two Masadan families. His Master’s families. The clips only brought back bad memories. Echoes of a past he wanted to forget. His Master’s kind words as she let him brush her hair, the familiar  _ snaps  _ of the clips as they clicked into place. The metal was cold but the gemstones shined in the light. A hand brushed against his hair, pushing an invisible braid back and a  _ snap  _ sounded next to his ear, the weight of a clip in his hair. When Kallus reached up, nothing was there. He brushed away a tear. 

“Kal?” came a voice from the door. Kallus looked over his shoulder and saw Zeb standing there, “we’re arriving.” 

“Oh, uh, ok I’ll be there soon,” Kallus replied, turning back to look out the window. Zeb didn’t leave, at least not right away. Instead, the Lasat approached and pressed a kiss to Kallus’ temple, rubbing their cheeks together the way that Lasats show affection. He also gave BD-4 a pet before he left. Kallus slipped the clips back into his pocket and followed, shuffling BD-4 up onto his shoulder. 

Masada was desolate. A once beautiful mesa-covered planet with fertile land had been reduced to nothing more than a dust bowl. There was no naval presence over the planet so getting through the atmosphere was no issue, but as they flew above the desolate landscape Kallus’ heart sank. Back during the Clone Wars, there had been greenery around the planet’s large ocean. Crops grew and cities flourished. Now, there was nothing. War had changed the planet. 

“There’s a storm forming up ahead,” Hera announced, tapping away at the controls of her ship, “I can’t get anything on my scanners so we’re gonna have to stop here until it passes.” The  _ Ghost  _ landed near a mesa plateau, one large enough to block most of the sandstorm from hitting them, and descended the ramp. A gust of warm air blew into the  _ Ghost _ , making Kallus shiver. It was too familiar for his liking. 

Sabine had walked outside and flipped down her rangefinder. “I think I see a settlement up ahead!” She announced, looking off into the distance. Kallus reached for his electrobinoculars and peered in the same direction, spotting what looked like a small village. 

“It looks abandoned,” Kallus commented. 

“Probably because of the Empire,” Sabine replied. 

“Argh! It’s even hotter than Yavin here!” Zeb growled out. He was right, the Masadan sun made it sweltering. It felt worse than it had done during the Clone Wars. 

“Well, you are covered in fur, Zeb,” Ezra commented, smirking. Zeb whacked the back of the young Jedi’s head.

“We should head to the settlement and look around. We may be able to find some locals willing to help us,” Kanan suggested as he descended the ramp. Hera nodded in agreement. 

“Zeb, since I’m going with the team, you can stay on the  _ Ghost  _ with Chopper out of the sun,” she said to the Lasat, who grumbled at first at being left with the cranky droid but then agreed. Kallus wiped his brow, already beginning to suffer under the sun. BD-4 beeped from her perch on the clip on his back, and Kallus reached up to scratch under her chin. 

The team headed off one by one, Kallus bringing up the rear. “Kal,” he heard Zeb call out, making the Coruscanti spin around. Zeb stood at the ramp of the  _ Ghost _ , “be safe,” the Lasat said, his ears flattening against his head in worry. Kallus gave him a smile. 

“I will be,” he promised, before leaving to catch up with the rest of the crew. 

The village was larger than it had looked, but it was still abandoned. A market had been set up in the square but everything had been left there. Most of the fruits on the stalls had begun to rot. The only sound was the howl of the wind from the approaching storm and the crush of the dusty ground under their boots. 

“Did the Empire do this?” Ezra asked. Kallus knelt down next to one of the market stalls, reaching out to pick up a discarded plush tooka. A sudden cold rushed over him as the synchronised marching of Stormtroopers echoed around him. Shadows of white armour shoved people from their homes, children cried out for their mothers, and a little girl dropped her plush tooka as she was ripped from her mother’s arms. 

BD-4, sensing her organic’s distress, nuzzled her head against him. Kallus gave a small chuckle, wiping away a tear. “I’m alright, BeeDee, just… overwhelmed.” He admitted, standing up and placing the tooka plush back on the floor. 

Kallus didn’t hear the whistle anymore. Since he had opened himself back up to the Force it was ever present in his day to day life, so he didn’t need to hear it to know to duck and roll, grabbing the hilt of his lightsaber. Above them, hooded figures had appeared on the rooftops, weapons aimed at the Rebels. Their faces were covered, only their eyes visible through fabric that looked designed to keep the sand out. They surrounded them. A lone figure stepped forward as the  _ Ghost  _ crew drew their own weapons, a crackling electro-sword pointing straight at them. 

“You’re trespassing,” a heavily accented voice said to them, “state your purpose or be annihilated.” The weapons of the hooded figures whirred to life, electro-bows drawn back and blasters primed. Two familiar lightsabers ignited to Kallus’ left. 

“We’re not here to cause trouble,” Hera spoke up, but the leader scoffed. 

“That is what they all say,” she bit back, looking over her shoulder at her people. “Ready weapons!” she ordered. Kallus focused on the leader, inspecting her. She wasn’t wearing the hood of her cloak, revealing her darkly tanned skin that was puckered with scars. dark hair was pulled back into intricate braids behind her, trailing down to her mid back and waving around heavily in the wind. Behind her left ear sat a red and green clip. Behind her right ear, a red and gold one. Kallus’ hand shot to his pocket. 

“Perhaps this will change your mind!” He called out, moving to stand in front of his friends. He held up his master’s red and gold clip. 


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No I am not Jewish, yes I am learning Hebrew. If somethings are not right then I apologise. Be warned that the word written are how I was taught to pronounce the Hebrew words and how to spell them in English, and may be pronounced different elsewhere.

_ “What do your clips mean, Master?” Sasha asked Master Ayman as the two walked through the cold hallways of the Dovekeeper.  _

_ “Well, on Masada we wear hair clips to show which family we belong to,” Master Ayman explained. She had her hands on her padawan’s shoulders as they walked, “normally we only have one, the one of our father’s family, but I have two as my mother is a... very important lady and I kept both of my parent’s names.” Sasha seemed to ponder on that for a moment as the two entered a turbolift.  _

_ “Is that why your surname is Kallus-David with the little dash between them?” He asked. Master Ayman nodded.  _

_ “It’s called a ‘Hyphen’, Padawan, but yes,” Master Ayman turned her head to the right, “I wear my ‘Kallus’ family clip on the left side as this is my father’s surname. His colours are red and blue,” she turned her head to the left, “and on my right I wear my “David” family clip. My mother’s surname; her colours are red and gold.” _

_ “I wish I had two names,” Sasha mumbled, making Master Ayman smile.  _

_ “Well, you’re welcome to use my name any time, my Padawan.” She told him. Sasha grinned a toothy grin. _

Kallus held the red and gold clip up, his thumb hovering over the switch of his lightsaber in his other hand. The leader’s face went from confusion to shock to fury. 

“Where did you get that?” She demanded, raising her blade again. Out of the corner of his eyes, the  _ Ghost  _ crew were holding their position, weapons raised ready to strike if need be. 

“Ayman David gave it to me,” Kallus explained calmly, doing his best to keep the shaking from his voice as he spoke. 

“Where is she?” the leader pressed, stepping forward. Kallus held his ground. 

“She’s dead,” he admitted, the feeling of guilt rising again. The leader’s grip on her blade seemed to falter. She glanced away, only briefly, before steeling herself and raising her head high. 

“And are you her son?” The question caught Kallus off guard. He lowered his hand. 

“Uh… n-no,” he stuttered, all confidence in his plan falling as he stumbled to find a way to explain, “I was her student,” he settled on. 

There were a few moments of silence except for the howling of the wind as the storm grew closer, but eventually the leader lowered her blade and sheathed it back onto her belt. The hooded figures all lowered their weapons. The leader approached Kallus, a gentle smile appearing on her lips. 

“If Ayman gave you that clip, she deemed you worthy of being in her family,” she said, before crossing her arms over her chest in an ‘x’ shape and bowing, “I am Talia, of house David.” Kalus clipped his saber back to his belt, copying Talia’s actions. 

“Alexsandr. Kallus,” he replied. 

Talia David was a kind woman who protected her people. Her mother was under the Empire’s control, forcing the Queen to bow to their commands by making her eldest child, Elisheva, work for them as a member of the Imperial Academy. With her daughter so unwillingly close to the heart of the Empire, Queen Nazanin bit her tongue and refused to fight back. This hadn’t stopped Talia from stepping up, rebelling in her mother’s place under the guise of ‘The Witch of Moab’. Apparently that was the name of the little village the  _ Ghost  _ had found. 

Talia and her ladies welcomed the rebels into their temporary homes within Moab, giving them food and a place to shelter until the storm passed. The homes themselves were dark inside, windows boarded up and blacked out with only the fire pit inside for light. There was little furniture and barely any decorations, the homes used for efficiency rather than comfort. Sabine had already made friends amongst the warrior women and they were all loving her hair. Hera had decided to keep Kanan and Ezra company, who were feeling a little left out as Sabine got all the attention. 

“Are there more of you here?” Talia asked as she brought Kallus a drink. They were sitting around a small fire pit inside of one of the many buildings. 

“Just two more, a fellow rebel and an astromech droid,” Kallus informed her, accepting the drink, “but out in the Galaxy we have hundreds of allies.” Talia hummed. 

“Yes, but the Empire had thousands of troopers,” she sighed dejectedly, staring over at her ladies. They all sat around Sabine as the Mandalorian told stories from her homeworld, listening intently as the artist animated explosions with her hands. 

“Maybe so,” Kallus shrugged, “but since I joined the Rebellion I’ve learnt that all you need is hope.” 

Hope was still such a foreign concept to Kallus. He hadn’t felt it in so long that a part of him believed he may never again. Being in the Empire for ten or more years would do that to you. They didn’t believe in hope, only results. Kallus still carried blame for his past actions, a weight he would never relieve himself of, but the more good he did the more that weight seemed to lighten just the slightest. 

“You really believe that you can stop the Empire?” Talia asked him. 

“We don’t have a choice,” Kallus stated, and he was right. They didn’t. The Empire didn’t give them one. They fell into a calm silence, sipping on their drinks and taking in the moment. 

“I will help you,” Talia announced, turning to face Kallus properly, “my ladies and I are forbidden from entering the wreckage you speak of, but we will take you as far as we can.” 

A bell sounded. It was faint but just loud enough to be heard over the chatter, the sound echoing around the village. The ladies all got to their feet, brushing the dust off their dresses and soon they were all leaving the small building. Talia got up, moving to pick up a handful of dust from the ground. 

“Lights out,” she explained to the  _ Ghost  _ crew. “We will leave at first light, but for now, rest. The storm will last until morning.” She tossed the dirt onto the fire, the room enveloping into darkness. 

_ The small transport ship landed in the orchard region just south of the capital city. With the distraction from the pilots on the other side of the planet, a small ship with a small platoon of troops managed to sneak to the surface undetected. Inside the transport, Sasha held on tight to the handrail as they landed, the doors swooshing open. Sasha stuck with his Master and Commander Cruz, following their lead as they stepped off of the ship and walked towards the small welcome party. Most of them were women, weapons in hand and faces hidden by the hoods of their cloaks, but there were a few men too. One woman stepped forward, two guards by her side. She approached Master Ayman, who crossed her arms over her chest in an ‘x’ shape and bowed.  _

_ “Princess Nazanin,” Master Ayman said. The Princess placed her hands on the Jedi master’s shoulders and had her stand back up, the two embracing.  _

_ “It’s been far too long,  _ achot _ ,” Princess Nazanin replied, holding Master Ayman at an arm's length. Sasha’s master was smiling in a way he had never seen before, one of those genuine ones where you couldn’t stop the grin even if you tried. The two women conversed in a language Sasha didn’t know fluently, but he picked up on a few words. Home. Mother. Son. Student. The Princess kept looking over at him, were they talking about him? Sasha turned to look at Commander Cruz. A blaster barrel. A shot ringing out. A flash flying over his shoulder. Searing pain in his neck as he falls backwards and- _

Kallus shot up in his makeshift bed, hand racing up to grab his scar. “ _ Ima _ !” he screamed out, panting heavily. Glancing around, Kallus saw he was the only one left in the room, the twilight sun of dawn peeking through the boards on the windows. Everyone else must have already gotten up. BD-4 was staring up at him quizzically. 

“I’m fine,” he told her. 

“You shouldn’t lie to your friends,” came Talia’s voice from the door. She was leaning against the frame, a scarf wrapped around her neck and her arms crossed over her chest. Kallus looked away. “We leave at sunrise, Alexsandr. If you want to eat you had better hurry.” With that, she left. Kallus grabbed his go-pack and his jacket, making sure everything was carefully put away before following, BD-4 trailing behind him. 

The storm had only just died down an hour or so earlier, and by the time their communications with the Ghost were back online, Zeb was grumbling about sand in the cannons. From the other end of the line Kallus could hear Chopper taunting the Lasat. 

It had taken a while for Kallus to fall asleep the night before, partially because he was so used to Zeb being by his side that he just felt cold all night, but also because his mind wouldn’t quieten. Something called to him, singing out, but it was… different. It felt… darker. Like a warning, a lingering feeling of alarm. It put Kallus on edge, and when headed to get some food dread filled his stomach. 

“Stay safe,” Kallus said down the comms. 

_ “I’m more worried about you,” _ came Zeb’s reply.

“I mean it, Garazeb,” he sighed, pushing his hair from his eyes, “I… I have a feeling. I’m not sure what it is, but…”

_ “Alex,” _ Zeb said. He never called him Alex,  _ “I’mma be fine, but I’ll keep an eye out. Focus on your mission, and come home.” _

Kallus’ chest welled up, a smile forming on his lips. They said their goodbyes just as BD-4 came scurrying over, trilling. She was covered in a layer of dust that hid her paint job, a consequence of the leftover winds from the storm. She chirped and hopped from foot to foot, jumping around. 

“Excited, Little Missy?” Kallus asked her, scooping her up and placing his droid on his shoulder. She locked her feet onto the clasps on his back, giving him a happy few beeps. Kallus joined the rest of the Ghost, who were all boarding speeders with Talia and her ladies. 

“You will ride with me,” Talia told him, climbing onto the final speeder. Kallus pulled his scarf up over his mouth and slid his goggles down, joined her on the back of the speeder, and within seconds they were all shooting away from Moab. 


	10. Chapter 10

The wreckage of the Venator-class Star Destroyer spanned for miles, debris lying everywhere. There wasn’t much in the way of an Imperial presence other than the odd patrol around the perimeter, but Talia and her ladies refused to go any further than the mesa overlooking the crash site. 

“We have been forbidden from going any further,” Talia explained, “the energy within is too dangerous for us to safely travel. From here, you are on your own.” Kallus reached into his pocket and retrieved Master Ayman’s clips, holding his hand out to Talia. 

“I believe these belong to you,” he said. Talia shook her head, carefully closing Kallus’ fingers around the clips. 

“No,  _ dodah  _ gave them to  _ you _ ,” she replied. Talis took a step back, crossed her arms over her chest in an ‘x’ shape and bowed. Kallus copied her actions. 

“Farewell, Alexsandr.” 

“Farewell, Talia.”

Masada turned cold. Wind howled around the wreckage as the rebels walked through the mess, their guards up as they looked out for enemies. Kallus pulled his jacket around himself tighter, wishing he had brought a poncho with him. On the undersides of debris, where the sun hadn’t hit in decades, ice had formed. The ground was hard and crunched under his boots, dust kicking up with every step. 

The entire area made Kallus feel… sick. His mind was screaming but no matter how much he tried he couldn’t figure it out. Ezra had huddled in on himself, arms wrapped around his stomach. He looked afraid. Kallus fell back to walk with him, an arm curling around the young jedi’s shoulders.

“I feel it too,” he told Ezra, lightly pulling him along so they could catch up with the group. Ezra buried himself into Kallus’ side as they walked, shivering. Kanan had waited for them atop the small mound they were on, taking over from Kallus and drawing Ezra close. 

“This place is huge, it’ll take forever for us to find the compass,” Sabine said, her rangefinder down as she scanned the area. 

“We don’t have forever, we’ll have to split up,” Hera replied. They all crouched down behind some debris, safe for the time being. Kallus kept a lookout, trusting his senses. Something called to him. 

“Ezra, will you be alright to go with Sabine?” he heard Kanan ask. Ezra nodded. 

“I think so,” he said. 

“Alright then, you two search the eastern side of the wreckage. Hera and I will head west. Kallus-”

“BD-4 and I will head into the hull,” Kallus informed, “we should be able to access the old maintenance corridors from there, if they survived.” 

With everyone in agreement they went their separate ways. Sabine and Ezra slid down the mound and hurried off towards the east, hiding behind each pile of debris they saw. Hera and Kanan went in the opposite direction, weapons drawn as they snuck around. Kallus glanced at his droid. 

“Ready?” he asked, and BD-4 trilled. 

There was a crack in the side of the hull that was barely visibly and barely wide enough for Kallus to fit through, but he squeezed inside and crawled around until he had managed to kick through into what looked like a corridor. It was dark, but when BD-4 flicked on her spotlight, bodies were strewn across the floor. Clone troopers. With each step he took, Kallus could hear their screams, their blaster fire, and the whirring of a lightsaber as it cut each trooper down one by one. The identity eluded him, face blurred, but soon everything fell quiet once again. 

The corridors twisted and turned, but everything was the same as it had been on the  _ Dovekeeper _ . The layout was identical and although most of the hallways were damaged and too dangerous to navigate through, the reinforced durasteel of the maintenance hallways made exploring just a bit easier. As they travelled deeper and deeper, comms crackled. 

_ “Spectre 5, report?” _

_ “Nothing yet, Spectre 2, but the Imps seem to be tearing the place apart.” _

_ “We found the same. Make sure you and Spectre 6 avoid being seen.” _

_ “Copy that. Spectre 5 out.” _

There seemed to be electricity powering through the section of the ship Kallus had wormed his way into. Crates embellished with the Imperial sigil had been left behind, all empty. They must have already searched the area. BD-4’s scanner lit up, flashing over everything she saw. She chirped when her scanner stopped over a transit car. The little droid hopped off of Kallus’ back and onto the nearby panel, scomp link whirring as she sliced into the system. A few seconds later and the doors opened. 

“This should take us up to the storage bay, which was where they should have been keeping the compass,” Kallus said to his droid, stepping into the transit car. BD-4 joined him just as the doors closed. The ride up was long; how high did it go?

“I think we’re getting close,” Kallus mused. BD-4 chirped a question, “I noticed it earlier. This feeling in the pit of my stomach. I thought it was just my breakfast at first, but now… it’s getting stronger.”

When the car came to a stop and the doors opened, all Kallus could see was a bottomless pit with broken arms of flooring sticking out of the walls. BD-4 peered over his shoulder, but then shrunk back. 

“So much for the storage bay,” Kallus muttered. A small amount of light shone through from the other side, an exit that seemed impossible to reach. Kallus studied the terrain, steeling himself before cautiously moving out of the transit car, shuffling along the ledges and sturdier remains of the ship. With each creak and groan Kallus paused, trusting his instincts to guide his footing as he shimmied and climbed around. One part of the wall was too far to reach, so he risked the jump. A year ago he would have missed, falling to his death, but he caught a hold of the ridge on the wall and continued to climb around. Over a piece of rebar, through a crack in the durasteel, up onto a part of the walkway that had somehow survived. Pull the cable towards you, trust in yourself and take the leap, swinging over the abyss and ducking and rolling onto a (thunkfully) sturdy remnant of flooring. A bit more climbing alone grating and alcoves and one final swing, and Kallus was rolling into a turbo lift. There was power, and with the press of a button they were heading down. 

BD-4 chirped and beeped happily. “No, we are not doing that again!” Kallus scolded, but he was smiling at her strange sense of adventure. The turbo lift took them down deep into the remains of the ship, and the more they descended the worse Kallus began to feel. 

“We should be on the right track,” he said as the lift doors opened. They were in a cavern, deep underground, with fragments of the ship embedded into the rocks. There was an exit to the cavern on one side, but stood between it and the turbolift was the Inquisitor. 

“Sasha Alexsandr,” she said with a note of triumph in her voice, “how predictable.” 

Kallus ignited his lightsaber, an action that made the Inquisitor scoff. “To think it only took a bit of false information to drag you here.” She stalked around circling Kallus as he held his saber up defensively. 

“Did you really think we had any care for this barren world?” she asked him, “We retrieved the compass as soon as the Empire rose; Masada is of no use to us anymore. But I know your past. I know how much you care for this place. It was perfect.”

“It’s all a trap,” Kallus stated, glaring at the Inquisitor as she laughed maniacally. BD-4 reached a mechanical appendage down to lightly tap on Kallus’ comm link, opening the channel.

“Of course it is!” The Inquisitor snorted, “a trap that you led your friends right into. But I don’t care about them.” Two red blades ignited. “I care about killing you.” 

The Inquisitor lunged at Kallus, blades crashing together as they fought. She was lithe and nimble, reflexes sharp as she flew around the room, movements overbearing and excessive. Kallus knew from the start that he would be no match for her but he kept his ground, feet digging into the dirt as he blocked every blow. She pushed him backwards at every chance she got, knocking him off of his feet, but Kallus caught himself and jumped up again and again. She taunted him. “ _ Pathetic _ ”, “ _ weak _ ”, “ _ embarrassing _ ”. When he fell, she waited for him to get back up, strutting over with her saber held limply in her hands. Overconfident. Toying with him like a lioness toying with her prey. Kallus didn’t relent. He got in his fair share of strikes, but her armour protected against any damage he could have caused. Her own hits left sizzling lacerations on his arm, barely flesh wounds only because of his quick reflexes. The Inquisitor played her game and Kallus struggled to survive through it. 

“You will not come out of this fight alive,” she stated, so certain in her words, “but I will accept your surrender.” 

“Never,” Kallus growled out, jumping to his feet and striking. His movements were in perfect form, green crashing down against red as he fought back, pushing the Inquisitor backwards. 

A crushing grip overcame him, shocking him to his core as he froze in place, lifting off of the floor. His saber deactivated. The Inquisitor’s saber deactivated. Horror and dread filled Kallus as he was dragged forwards, stopping merely inches in front of the Inquisitor’s helmet. She lent in close. 

“I gave you a chance to surrender, Sasha Alexsandr,” she whispered in his ear, “you should have taken it.” Blinding pain shot through Kallus’ side as a lightsaber ignited, red crackling around him. The Inquisitor threw him out of the cavern, over the side of a cliff face and down, down, down until he crashed into icy cold waters. Everything went dark.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No I am not sorry for leaving it on a cliffhanger last chapter.

“Fulcrum, come in?”

“Fulcrum? Do you hear me?

“Kallus, what’s happening? Report!”

“Kal, answer us!”

“Kallus!”

“Kal!” 

“Kallus!” 

_ “Sasha! Sasha!” _

_ Sasha opened his eyes, snapping from his meditative trance as his comlink flashed, beeping with each time his name was called. “Yes, Master Ayman?” He answered, earning a frustrated sigh from the other end of the line.  _

_ “You’ve missed our briefing with the Council,” came his master’s voice. Scraprats… Sasha jumped to his feet and found his boots, showing his feet into them.  _

_ “Sorry, Master, I was meditating!” He cried to her, hurriedly clipping his saber to his belt before taking off running out of his room, down the familiar corridors of the Dovekeeper.  _

_ “I gathered that, Padawan. Now hurry to the War Room,” she instructed before ending the call. Sasha ran as fast as he could, slipping past Clone troopers and taking each flight of stairs two at a time. Some of the troopers laughed as he ran, comments like “he’s late again” or “what’s the commander done this time?” echoing around him. Sasha focused on getting to his master’s side before she made him scrub the fighters again.  _

_ Sliding down the final corridor, Sasha barrelled through the doors and came to a stop right next to his master, who simply glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. Sasha stood tall with his hands clasped behind his back. He’d grown since they’d first met, now sixteen and beginning to tower over his master as opposed to the tiny thirteen year old who could still sit on his master’s lap that he had been. Sasha gave Master Ayman a smile, one she didn’t return.  _

_ “I’m sorry, Master,” he apologised, expression turning serious.  _

_ “Just be happy I was able to cover your arse this time,” Master Ayman replied. Sasha winced. Last time he had missed a briefing, he had ended up on the bad side of most of the High Council for a month. Only Masters Billaba and Kenobi didn’t seem to mind.  _

_ Master Ayman walked to the opposite side of the holotable and deactivated the map she had been staring at. It was only Sasha, Master Ayman and Commander Cruz in the room. “We have new orders,” she explained, “I have been informed that General Grievous is dead. We will be leaving Coruscant for Utapau to back up the 212th.” Sasha gave a small cheer. They had been stuck over Coruscant for months, only seeing some action when the Separatists decided to launch an attack and kidnap the Chancellor. The fight on Utapau would probably be over by the time they arrived, but it was better than being stuck in orbit.  _

_ “Does this mean the war is over?” Sasha asked.  _

_ “Possibly,” came Master Ayman’s response, “we cannot know for-” she froze, hand reaching for her head as her knees gave out under her.  _

_ “Master?” Sasha rushed to his master’s side, helping her to stay upright when he nearly collapsed. “What’s wrong? Are you ok?”  _

_ “Something is… wrong…” Master Ayman stuttered out, breathless. Sasha was so focused on his master that he didn’t notice Commander Cruz turn on his holoprojector. He didn’t hear a voice say “Execute Order Sixty-Six”. When he turned around, about to ask his Commander for help, he didn’t expect to see a blaster barrel in his face. Master Ayman pushed him to the side, the blaster bolt heading over his left shoulder and scraping across his neck, leaving a searing pain as Sasha fell to the floor. Master Ayman ignited her lightsaber and slashed across Commander Cruz’s chest, killing him instantly.  _

_ “What was that?” Sasha asked, stumbling to get back to his feet. He grabbed his saber hilt, his other hand grabbing his neck where the shot had left its mark. Master Ayman didn’t respond, a hand held up to silence him as she closed her eyes. When she reopened them, a fierce determination shone behind them.  _

_ “Sasha, something terrible has happened,” she explained, approaching her young apprentice, “We’ve been betrayed; our men have turned on us. I do not know why but we need to escape,” Sasha went to speak, but Master Ayman shushed him. “There’s no time for questions. Head straight to the escape pods, use the ventilation systems and the maintenance corridors if you must.” She placed her hand on Sasha’s cheek, firmly making him look right into her eyes. “Do not hesitate to fight back. They are not our friends anymore, do you understand me?” _

_ “Y-Yes Master,” Sasha stuttered, nodding, “what about you?” _

_ “I’m going to sabotage the ship. If I am not there when you arrive, depart without me and I will find you on Coruscant, understood?” Sasha nodded again. “Go, and may the Force be with you. Run Sasha!” _

_ Sasha knew the Dovekeeper like the back of his hand, which was good because all of his once-friends were firing at him at every chance they got. “Shoot to kill!” A trooper called out when they spotted him.  _

_ “No, Kickstart, stop!” Sasha cried, but to no avail as he deflected their shots back at the troopers, knocking them all down dead. Sasha ran, dashing through the back hallways and slipping through the maintenance corridors when needed. He was too big for most of the vents now, not like when he was thirteen and still played Padawan Tag, but those he could still fit through made his escape all the more easier. “This doesn’t make any sense,” Sasha muttered to himself, “what’s going on?” He didn’t trust using the turbolifts, instead climbing up the shafts nearby seemed safer. With each climb he could see his master fighting her way through the troopers valiantly, former friends falling at her hands. Why would the troopers turn like that? They were their friends! Sasha had known Commander Cruz since the beginning for the Clone Wars when the little boy from Coruscant stepped foot onto a starship for the first time.  _

_ At the top of the shaft, Sasha jumped up and kept running, this time slipping back into the maintenance corridor just as a blaster bolt clipped his arm. “I’ve spotted the Padawan, he’s heading to the east quadrant!” a Clone called out. Sasha kept going, stumbling briefly as the ship shuddered and alarm began to blare.  _

_ The escape pod bay was just up ahead. Sasha smashed a hand on the door panel and darted inside, but two troopers were waiting. With ease, but a heavy heart, he sliced them down and slammed the door shut, just in time for his master to come running in from the other entrance.  _

_ “Into the escape pod, Sasha!” she ordered, still deflecting blaster fire. Sasha grabbed the controls, typing away and opening one of the escape pods, ducking inside. More clones arrived, their blaster fire getting heavier and heavier. Master Ayman was a skilled fighter but not even she could hold her ground. Shots struck the Jedi, first her shoulder, then her lower chest, then her stomach. She stumbled backwards, collapsing as her feet hit the step on the pod.  _

_ “Master!” Sasha cried, jumping in front of her and deflecting the blaster bolts. Tears streamed down his face as he thrust his arms out, the clones falling into stasis and slowing down just enough to allow Sasha to grab his master and carry her into the escape pod, jettisoning them off into space as the Dovekeeper began to explode.  _

_ Safe, but not for long, Sasha helped Master Ayman to sit down in one of the seats, strapping her in for safety. She was limp and breathing heavily. “Just hold on, Master, ok? We’ll get help,” Sasha said, his voice as steady as he could muster. The force of the Dovekeeper exploding shook the pod as it entered Coruscant’s atmosphere. He didn’t want to leave Master Ayman’s side but he had to strap in and steer the pod as best as he could. Warnings blared out as the impact signal flashed, the ground growing ever closer until the pod slammed into the ground. Sasha was thrown against his restraints, nausea filling his stomach. As soon as they had stopped, Sasha unclipped himself from the seat and rushed back to his Master’s side, quelling his fear as best as he could. She was still breathing, but it was growing shallow. They couldn’t stay there. Troopers would be on their way soon and that put them in danger.  _

_ Sasha opened the locker of emergency supplies. Inside was a backpack with emergency rations, a toolkit, a field med-kit and warm clothing. There was also a wrist com and a datapad. He packed everything away and slipped the backpack on, pulling the poncho down over him, making sure his lightsaber was out of sight. Sasha wrapped Master Ayman in the warm cloak, hoping it would help to protect her from the harshness of The Works, one of the most formidable places on Coruscant and unfortunately, the place they had crashed.  _

_ Sasha opened the door release and heaved his Master out. It was raining, heavily, as they stumbled through the back alleys of the dark streets. No one was around. No one lived in The Works anymore. Aside from the thunder and the pattering of his boots, there was silence as Sasha exhaustedly carried Master Ayman as best as he could. He was cold, he was tired, he was in pain, and he couldn’t go on. The adrenaline was wearing off. Sasha settled his master down against the wall of the alley they were in, collapsing next to her. The rain was getting heavier.  _

_ “I’m sorry, Master,” Sasha sobbed, hiding his tears amongst the rain. A shaky hand reached out to cup his cheek. Master Ayman opened her heavy eyes.  _

_ “Sasha-” she bagn, coughing as she spoke, blood spluttered from her lips. Sasha knelt by her side, hands hovering over the wounds on her body. He didn’t know what to do. “My clips,” Master Ayman breathed out, “my clips, take them.” Sasha did as he was told, unclipping the heirlooms from his master’s hair and placing them into her other. Master Ayman clasped his hand tightly, wrapping his fingers around the accessories. “Take them. Leave me-” _

_ “No!” Sasha exclaimed, “No, I’m not leaving you! I can’t lose you!”  _

_ “Shh, shh my padawan,” Master Ayman whispered, her voice growing weaker, “shh… Listen to me…” her were getting heavier, breaths growing shakier, “go t-to the te-temple. Await t-the Council’s i-instructions…”  _

_ “No… no, please!” Tears fell freely down Sasha’s cheeks. Master Ayman weakly brushed them away.  _

_ “Ani ohevet otcha,” she said. Sasha sobbed.  _

_ “I love you too, Ima.” Master Ayman smiled, her eyes slipping closed. She fell still, hands dropping to her sides. Sasha shook his master’s shoulder gently. _

_ “No… No, no, no!” Sasha repeated. He stumbled back, falling onto the ground next to his master and hugged her close, crying out into the dark. His head was spinning, he felt sick. In his chest his heart pounded and everything became too loud, too rough, too much.  _

_ She was gone. It was all his fault.  _

_Sasha Alexsandr died that day alongside his master. Alexsandr Kallus was all that was left._


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha ouch the angst last chapter...

_ “You’ve missed our briefing with the Council,” _

_ “He’s late again.” _

_ “Run Sasha!” _

_ “No, Kickstart, stop!” _

_ “Into the escape pod!” _

_ “I’m not leaving you! I can’t lose you!”  _

_ “Ani ohevet otcha...” _

_ “I love you too, Ima.” _

_ “No… No!”  _

When Kallus awoke, he was shivering, washed up on the edge of a deep underground lake. His eyes refused to open as he struggled to pull himself out of the water, dragging his body further and further away from the cold as his side screamed at him in pain, as if a lightsaber had been pierced through him-

Oh, wait. A lightsaber  _ had  _ been pierced through him. Memories flooded through him as he rolled onto his side, crashing down against the hard rock below him. It had been a trap. He’d fought the Inquisitor. She’d won. It was tough, but Kallus got to his feet and staggered over to the wall of the cavern. His eyes eventually began to cooperate, allowing him to look around. He was deep underground, the only source of light a small opening at least a hundred meters up, but Kallus began to scale the rocks anyways. Every part of him ached, his limbs heavy as he climbed until his legs gave way, causing him to call a few meters back down onto the harsh ground. He pulled himself upright and collapsed back against the wall, curling inwards. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. To himself. To his Master. To his friends. To Zeb. To BD-4. “I’m sorry… I failed.” 

A gentle hand brushed his wet hair from his eyes, running their fingers through the soaked locks. Kallus snapped his eyes open, turning around as best as he could with the wound in his side.

“You only fail if you’ve given up,” came a familiar accented voice from a ghostly blue figure that stood by him. Hair pulled back into two braids, a gold circlet around her forehead, long flowing Jedi robes, and a hand outstretched to her padawan. 

“Master?” Kallus breathed out, brow furrowing. The figure nodded. “Master!” Kallus sat up and groaned when his wound begged him to stay still. Master Ayman’s ghostly form knelt next to him, hands moving to rest on her former student’s shoulders, but Kallus found a surge of energy and threw his arms around his master. Surprisingly, though he didn’t care how, he didn’t fall right through her. It felt as though she was actually there, alive and warm, but Kallus knew the truth. 

“Oh, my padawan,” Master Ayman sighed, “look at how you have grown!” She pulled back to cup his cheek, brushing away a tear, “I am so very proud of you, Sasha.”

“Why?” Kallus asked her. Master Ayman looked confused, “How can you be proud of me? You know what I’ve done, what I did to you,”

“Sasha-”

“I couldn’t save you!” he screamed, head falling into his hands, “if I had been stronger, if I had been braver, if I had listened to you, I could have helped you! You would still be alive!”

“Sasha, no,” Master Ayman’s figure sat down cross-legged next to him, hand still on his cheek. “You did everything you could. My time had come, there was nothing we could do.” Kallus shook his head, not looking up at her. 

“I joined the Empire. I went against everything you’d taught me.” He sobbed. 

“You survived.” Master Ayman stated. She reached up to brush her fingers over the scar on his neck, sending a shiver through her padawan. “You have always been a survivor, even when you were a child, and when it came down to it, you made the right choice, even though it was the most difficult one” Kallus sniffled, wiping his tears away as he listened to his master. 

“I forgive you, Sasha,” she told him, “but you have to forgive yourself. If not for me, then for the people who need you. Your friends, your family.” Kallus shook his head again. No. He couldn’t. 

“Yes you can,” Master Ayman placed a finger under his chin and made Kallus look up at her, staring into his eyes. “You can sit here at the bottom of this pit and let it consume you, or you can do the next right thing and keep going.” 

“How?” Kallus asked. Master Ayman’s hand reached into his shirt pocket, where she pulled out the red and blue hair clip. She brushed his hair back behind his left ear, slid the clip into place and gave him a smile. 

“By doing the next. Right. Thing.” Master Ayman pulled Kallus back in for a hug, her arms wrapped around him tightly. Kallus reciprocated, more tears falling. 

“Remember,” she whispered, her voice fading, “The Force will be with you. Always.” As her voice disappeared, so did her body and Kallus folded in on himself, the light he had seen fading. He sniffled, more sobs erupting from him. 

A few short chirps made Kallus open his eyes. Where his master had sat, BD-4 stood, head tilted at him. Kallus let out a laugh, opening his arms wide for his little droid to jump into them, holding her close. She was covered in scratches and dents, but she trilled happily, nuzzling against his cheek. 

“You found me,” he breathed out, breath fogging up. BD-4 chirped again, hopping back down to the ground and over to where she had been standing. With her head, she began to push forward the hilt of Kallus’ lightsaber. Kallus grabbed his saber, holding it tightly in his hands as he looked up at the rocky path BD-4 had to take just to get down to him. The scrapes and dents were more obvious now he looked for them. 

“You risked all that for me?” He asked her. She chirped and beeped. Kallus smiled, “Yeah, I believe in you too, Little Missy.” Kallus looked back up at the small way out above them, a pool of determination beginning to form. 

“This isn’t the end,” he said, getting up to his feet. He clipped his saber to his belt and lifted BD-4 onto his shoulder, turning back to the wall. He, carefully, began to climb.

The wall was unstable and rough. Finding places to grab or to place his feet was proving more difficult as he climbed, but Kallus kept going. One step at a time. Not looking too far ahead. Eyes focused on what was just before him, no further. Each step was calculated and progressful. His side hurt every time he stretched too far, so he didn’t, taking it slow and steady. He stopped when he needed to, kept going when he had the strength. BD-4 guided him, scanner active and flashing over the terrain around them. It was difficult, the rocks dug into his hands with each grasp. They reached a small plateau of rock that stuck out of the wall, pausing to gather a breath as Kallus looked out in front of him. A clear path was visible, wide and sturdy, but on the other side of a drop that would take them plummeting back down into the icy waters below. Kallus took a deep breath, focused on what was right there in front of him and ran, leaping over the break in the cliff and tumbling to his knees on the other side. Everything ached. Everything told him to give up. Kallus got to his feet and kept walking, kept climbing toward the light.

They were higher than he had thought. Most of the Venator was below them, slanting at an angle not safe to walk down. The sun was blinding as Kallus stepped out from the darkness, reaching a hand up to shield his eyes as he looked down at the wreckage below him. He made it. 

_ “Fulcrum, do you copy? I repeat, Fulcrum, respond!” _ came Hera’s urgent voice. BD-4 opened a compartment and Kallus took his comlink from inside, turning it on. 

“I read you, Spectre 2,” Hera let out a sigh. 

_ “Thank goodness, we’ve been worried sick!” _ she exclaimed,  _ “we’re getting overrun with troopers and need back up, can you reach our position?” _ BD-4 trilled and flashed her spotlight down at the bottom of the wreckage. Blasters fired back and forth and the glows of two lightsabers were visible. 

“I see you, Spectre 2, I’m on my way. Fulcrum out,” Kallus said, clipping his com back to his belt. He looked to BD-4. “Ready for a ride?” Kallus jumped off of the ledge he was on, sliding down the outer plating of the fallen star destroyer and jumping over debris as it approached The wind rushed past him as Kallus raced to the action, using the force to propel himself forwards and leaping to grab cables to help him swing. It was a much quicker trip down than it was to get up, and before he knew it he had leapt into the air, igniting his lightsaber as he front flipped over the stormtroopers. He caught them by surprise and force pushed them backwards, knocking many down. He deflected blaster bolts as he stepped backwards to join the Ghost crew, who were standing their ground behind a broken part of the Venator’s wing. 

“What happened to you?” Ezra asked him. 

“I ran into some trouble,” Kallus explained, deflecting a shot right back into a Stormtrooper, “the Inquisitor from Socorro was here. It was a trap; there never was a compass.” 

“I’m guessing that’s why you have lightsaber slashes on your arm and leg?” Kanan remarked. 

“And why we’re being shot at!” Sabine added. 

“Less talk, more shooting!” Hera ordered. The stormtroopers kept falling and soon they were all down, but that was the least of their problems. As the rebels planned to head back to the  _ Ghost _ , footsteps echoed on durasteel above their heads. The Inquisitor stared down at them. Ezra and Kanan readied their sabers but Kallus held out his hand to stop them. 

“Get back to the Ghost,” he told them. 

“Kal-”

“This is my fight,” Kallus stated. They seemed hesitant, but eventually their telltale sounds of running informed him that they had listened. He turned to the little droid on his shoulder. “You too, BeeDee.” She beeped angrily, but one stern look and she too hopped down and scuttled away. 

The Inquisitor jumped down from the wreckage, her saber in hand. Kallus drew his own. They circled one another, steps slow, both ready, neither willing to strike first. 

“Do you think that facing me makes you a Jedi?” she asked him, amusement in her tone. 

“No,” Kallus admitted, “but facing my past does. I won’t run from it anymore.” He ignited his blades. The Inquisitor did the same, her blades spinning around. 

“Then let us see what manner of death your courage brings.” The Inquisitor struck first, and that was probably where it went downhill for her. She was mad, striking out of anger and not thinking before she acted. Her movements were wild, eager to earn a result. She left herself defenceless, which was when Kallus struck. He thought first, planned, prepared. His movements were calm, precise, striking exactly where they needed to be.  _ “Focus, Sasha” _ he heard his master say in his head, “ _ ignore any distractions you may find and focus on your target.” _ He dodged her blows, blocked her attacks, fought back out of determination. He allowed the force to flow through him to guide him, in a way he hadn’t since the Clone Wars. Everything was clearer, brighter. 

Kallus saw his opening, and with one swoop of his lightsaber he knocked her right in the chest, her saber flying from her grasp and right through his blade, severing the weapon. The Inquisitor fell to her knees. Kallus held his saber above her head. With one hand he used the force to remove her helmet. A pale blue face with striking yellow eyes and long black hair stared up at him. 

“Go on then,” she spat, “strike me down.” 

“… No.” Kallus turned his saber off and clipped it back to his belt. “It’s not the Jedi way.” 

Overhead, the  _ Ghost  _ appeared. BD-4 came scurrying back over and jumped onto his shoulder. 

“You’re making a mistake,” the Inquisitor laughed. 

“Maybe to you,” Kallus shrugged. The  _ Ghost  _ opened its ramp, “but I’m doing the next right thing.” Kallus jumped up with the assistance of the force, landing on the ramp with ease. He watched as the Inquisitor got up to her feet just as the ramp closed. He sighed and sagged onto a crate. His vision was spotty, knees suddenly weak. A pain pulsed through his side. 

“ _ Kallus _ !” he heard as everything went dark. 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say, I like writing angst and Kallus has a lot of angst inside him. Hopefully this fluffy ending makes up for it.

_ The Jedi Temple was as grand as it had always been as Sasha walked through it. He felt different. Taller. Older. He had facial hair - mutton chops, he wasn’t too sure that he liked them - and felt… stronger. Physically. He was wearing his usual robes and his lightsaber was safely strapped to his belt, his braid falling down in front of his left shoulder. It reached the middle of his chest by now.  _

_ Sasha wasn’t too sure why he had been called to the Council Chambers. His master was still asleep as it was very early in the morning, but he had been summoned and Sasha knew better than to go against the Council’s wishes. He wasn’t too sure how Master Skywalker and Padawan Tano got away with it all the time.  _

_ When Sasha arrived, the doors were closed and the corridor dark. The temple guards were not at their posts and something felt off. Nethertheless, he pushed on, entering the Council Chambers when the doors opened. It was dark inside, the sun was still too low to provide adequate lighting.  _

_ “Um… Masters? Are you here?” Sasha called out into the room. He continued until he stood in the middle, where he was supposed to stand. Suddenly, lightsabers ignited. All different colours. They illuminated the faces of the Jedi who wielded them and a single light appeared about Sasha in the middle of the room.  _

_ “Sasha Alexsandr,” announced a voice. It was Master Ayman. Sasha spun around to see his master standing there, her own lightsaber in hand.  _

_ “Master-” _

_ “Kneel.” She instructed. Sasha did as he was told, kneeling on one knee and bowing his head. Master Ayman ignited her saber. She brought it down to rest just above his shoulders, close enough that he could feel the heat coming off of the blade. With a precise swoop, Sasha’s braid fell to the floor. Severed.  _

_ “By the right of the Council,” she spoke, voice booming, “by the will of the Force, Alexsandr Kallus. Rise, Jedi Knight." Sasha, no, Kallus didn’t rise.  _

_ “This is all in my head,” he stated sadly, his eyes falling shut.  _

_ “Just because it’s all in your head, Sasha, doesn’t mean it isn’t real,” Master Ayman told him. He looked up at her. It was just the two of them. Everyone else had disappeared. His braid lay at his feet. He looked away.  _

_ “I… I don’t believe that I am ready.” he admitted.  _

_ “And it’s for that very same reason that I know you are.” Master Ayman held out her hand. Kallus took it. He rose to his feet.  _

_ “There are people waiting for you,” Master Ayman motioned to the door. Kallus walked over. He opened the door. A bright light appeared.  _

Kallus opened his eyes, blinking slowly at the brightness of the lights above him. He was laying down and was draped in a soft blanket, something wrapped tightly around his middle. He sat up, wincing as he felt pain shoot through him, the blanket pooled in his lap. He was shirtless, a bacta-soaked gauze on his side being held in place by bandages. Slowly he turned his body and moved his legs off of the bed, shakily standing up. He couldn’t find a shirt anywhere, but that was fine, his favourite jacket lay on the back of a chair. He was in Kanan’s room, he believed. 

It hurt to pull the jacket on but Kallus wasn’t about to walk out of the room with his chest out. He had no idea who was on the ship. Kallus gingerly made his way to the door, taking his time as he slowly found his strength to keep walking. There was noise coming from the common area, laughter, cheering. Kallus followed it. The door slid open. Everyone was sitting around the dejarik table watching as Kanan lost to Hera, again. 

“That looks entertaining,” Kallus commented, leaning against the doorframe. Everyone snapped their attention to him. 

“What are you doing out of bed?” Hera shot up and moved to help him sit down, something he was grateful for because he felt like he was going to collapse. She settled him down next to Zeb on the soft sofa, the Lasat wrapping an arm around him instantly. Hera fussed over his bandages. 

“I heard all the fun and didn’t want to miss out,” he replied, smiling as best as he could through the pain he still felt. BD-4 jumped down from her little perch above the table and hopped up onto his lap, flicking her scanner on. She trilled and opened a compartment, shooting out a green healing stim canister that Kallus caught. 

“Thanks, BeeDee, but I’m alright,” he told her, putting the canister back in its slot. She beeped in frustration, but rushed forward to nuzzle her head against his good side. He stroked her head. “I’ve missed you too.” 

“You’ve got to stop collapsing on us, Kal,” Sabine commented, but she was smiling, “you gave Ezra and Zeb heart attacks when they found you passed out in the cargo hold.” Ezra began spluttering, trying to defend himself, but Zeb just hugged Kallus closer. He bent down to place a kiss on Kallus’ head, intertwining their fingers, and the Coruscanti leaned into his touch more. 

“How are you feeling?” Kanan asked him, “better?” Kallus looked around the room. It felt odd but for the first time since he had defected, he truly found himself looking around at the people he had come to see as friends. As family. The Twi’lek who had taken him in like she had done with everyone she met. The fellow Jedi who treated him like a brother but was always there to listen to him when he needed. The Mandalorian who teased him like he was a sibling, despite their past feuds. The Padawan who had shown him that not all the good in the galaxy was gone. The Lasat who had forgiven him for unforgivable actions and accepted him more than he could have ever asked for. The cranky astromech who had stopped zapping him awake at three am after he gave the droid an oil bath. And the little BD unit he had adopted as his own that day out in the forest. His hand slid up to trace the scar on his neck, reaching further to gently brush against the clip in his hair Against his master’s clip. She smiled at him in his mind, encouraging him, her voice sounding ever so much like the song he had shut out for so long. 

“Yeah,” Kallus admitted, a smile gracing his lips, “yeah, I’m doing better.” 

And he really was. 


End file.
